Moments with Mistoffelees
by InkWoven
Summary: Follow everyone's favorite conjuring cat as he encounters different events growing up in the Jellicle Junkyard. Second place in BroadwayKhaos' Jellicle Week competition. Mistoria on occasion. Comments/critique greatly appreciated!
1. The Story of a Knight in Shining Armor

The Story of a Knight in Shining Armor

Mistoffelees curled up tighter into the corner of the cardboard box, shivering hopelessly in the cold sun. Although half-starved, shelter-less, and scared, Mistoffelees knew anything was better than what he was running from. His father worked him relentlessly, even painfully, forcing his son's magical tendencies to emerge earlier than most mystical cats'. The poor kitten didn't know what was happening to him when a searing, bright beam shot from his paw and the smell of burnt fur rose to his nose. So he ran. He bided his time until the appropriate moment to escape his father's greed-filled, power-hungry face.

Of course, Mistoffelees knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer without help. His father was the Napoleon of Crime, the Hidden Paw, a fiend in feline shape, who had dozens of cats at his disposal to do his bidding. Either Macavity would capture him or he would eventually perish in the merciless London winters. He was still a kitten, after all.

So here Mistoffelees lay, curled up in a forgotten old box in a forgotten old alleyway, wondering how he could possibly find a proper family in a world that had forgotten him.

"There you are, you little brat," a large, rusty tom stalked up to the young Mistoffelees, cornering him in his box. "Your daddy is quite cross with you right now. Better to get you home now, before your punishment escalates to a more… painful… level."

"No! I will not go back! You can't make me! He'll hurt me!" cried the desperately courageous kitten.

"Not my problem," growled the tom. Just as the cat began reaching for the trembling tuxedo tom, a crushed can flew from out of nowhere and hit the cat squarely in his scarred face.

"Hey, ugly, come and get me!" squeaked a voice from behind a trashcan. Fury at his broken pride spurned the assaulted cat to seek out his attacker in a careless, clumsy fashion, shouting,

"Get back here, you idiot kit! When I catch you, you'll be nothing more than a fuzzy winter blanket!"

Mistoffelees saw a flash of white to his left from underneath the dumpster, the opposite direction from where his father's cat was searching.

"Hey, you, in the box," whispered the cat hiding under the dumpster. "When I say go, run with me to the mouth of the alleyway." Mistoffelees could only nod, still confused and petrified by the passing events. A sleek kitten queen pulled herself from her hiding place and threw another crushed can at a bucket placed precariously on the edge of the trashcan that the burly tom was sniffing out. The can hit its target, and the bucket plummeted, trapping the enraged cat inside when it hit the ground.

"Let's go!" she shouted to Mistoffelees, and they both ran from the cat spouting language almost as colorful as the mirth in the queen's eyes. Turning the corner past the alleyway, the two stumbled upon a junkyard, where several cats were out sunbathing or grooming each other. The running pair slowed and entered the yard, the queen grinning widely at their adventure. Mistoffelees turned to thank her, but was stopped when he had to squint and turn away from her gleaming white coat, which shined like armor in the sunlight so strongly that it hurt to look. Eventually, he opened his eyes again as she led him into her home, nodding to each passing cat.

The magical Mr. Mistoffelees was welcomed warmly into this family of cats. In the months to come, as he grew closer to his feline friends and fostered his ever-growing magical talent, Mr. Mistoffelees would come to think of this pearl-white queen (whose name he soon learned was Victoria) as the kitten who saved him in his moment of need, his knight in shining armor.

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**Hi there! I'm new-ish to the fandom, and this is my first publication here. It also happens to be an entry for BroadwayKhaos' Jellicle Week writing competition. I know it is technically 6/17, but it is currently 12:04 AM where I am, and I think that should count as an entry for 6/16. I just happened to publish it four minutes late... And in order to get seven consecutive days, I have to publish this tonight. Hope that works... Enjoy!** ~**InkWoven**


	2. Doorway

Doorway

"He certainly has talent," murmured one of the mystic twins, "At least, more than what we've encountered before."

"He radiates positive power," continued the other, "Though he must learn to channel it before—"

"—it disrupts his natural flow of energy," they finished together. Munkustrap looked between the two, but decided to give up trying to make sense of the twins' logic.

"Do you have any suggestions?" Munkustrap sighed.

"Through regular instruction—"

"—and proper practice—"

"—our young mystic can easily manage his rapid growth," they chorused.

"That sounds fair," the tribal protector decided. "I will leave lesson times up to you and Mistoffelees. That is, if you will take him as your pupil."

"We look forward to it." And indeed they did. The tribe hadn't seen another mystic since Macavity was banished. The twins turned their wise eyes to the kitten under discussion as he tackled Tumblebrutus to the ground and dodged a leaping Victoria in a play fight.

"Gotcha!" he exclaimed to the kitten pinned to the ground. "You owe me a new yarn ball now!" Tumblebrutus playfully shook the gloating cat off, grumbling about beginners' luck and a stubbed toe.

"Mistoffelees," the twins called. The kitten looked up and raced over, a bundle of energy after his win. "We will teach you to manage your powers, else they will grow to harmful levels within your reserves. Come, we will start now." Mistoffelees paled, all traces of a smile on his face erased as he remembered his father's magic lessons. The twins seemed to sense this sudden anxiety and cocked their heads simultaneously at the young kit. He flattened his ears against his head, looked down, and asked,

"You won't hit me too hard, will you?" Tantomile padded up to the frightened tom and curled her tail around him comfortingly.

"We will do no such thing," she responded gently. "We only want to teach you how to expel any excess energy building up inside you. You never have to use your magic ever again, if you don't want to.

"Come," she continued. "Let us move to a calmer place and begin the lesson."

* * *

"Now," Coricopat began as they settled into the twins' den. "We want you close your eyes and feel around inside yourself for the core of your strength."

"It is different for everybody," continued Tantomile, "so you must let your breathing lead you to where you feel the most pressure, the most energy." Mistoffelees took a deep breath and held it, screwing up his face in a determined, almost pained expression. The twins smiled in amusement.

"Young mystic," Coricopat set a paw on Mistoffelees' tense shoulder. "You must learn to relax. You will not achieve manipulation of energy if you send it all over your body by tensing your muscles." Mistoffelees opened his eyes and drew his eyebrows together, shaking his head and staring at his paws.

"I can't," he told his instructors. "It will hurt more."

"What will?" they asked. Searching for one's energy core relieves stress; it doesn't add to any pain.

"The-the hitting," replied the kitten, trying to shrink under their gaze. Coricopat sucked in a breath of air.

"Why would we hit you, young one?" he asked.

"Father told me that it beats the magic into submission. I-I asked him what submission means and he said it means when you hit harder, more weakness goes away." Tears began welling up in the eyes of the shaking kit. Tantomile approached him and curled herself around him, trying to calm him with her gentle warmth.

"Mistoffelees, I want you to close your eyes and imagine a doorway," she began. "that leads to nothing and nowhere. Which side are you on?"

Mistoffelees shivered. "The dark one."

Tantomile nodded. "Now imagine your old magic lessons: the room, your father. What were they like?"

"They were cold. Sometimes I thought Father was hitting me with balls of ice, his paws were so cold, and the floor always made my feet go numb."

"Very good, Mistoffelees. Now, we want you to imagine the room with your father in it on your side of the doorway. Walk through the doorway into the other side. What does it feel like?"

Mistoffelees paused for a moment. "It feels warmer, like when the sun is really high in the sky and warms up the ground."

"And what do you see?"

Mistoffelees began to smile. "I see… I see my friends playing with each other. Etcetera is swinging from her trapeze. Tumble and Pounce are jumping around like toads. And there's Victoria on the TSE-1! Electra looks like she wants to play bounce and catch with her…"

"Remember the doorway, Mistoffelees?" murmured Tantomile gently. Mistoffelees nodded, eyes still shut. "Close the door." The kitten slowly began to stop shaking, relaxing into the warm sensation. A smile reappeared on his face.

"Now," Coricopat started, "take long, deep breaths. Feel for the center of the warmth. Take your energy and feel it run through your body and leave through your paws."

A bright light erupted from the paws of the tom kit, submerging everything within the den in a sharp white glow. As the light faded, Coricopat and Tantomile looked down at the kitten, who slept on, perfectly content in the world behind his closed door.


	3. The Ode to the Great Rumpus Cat

The Rumpus Cat

"You can't be serious… You've never heard of the Rumpus Cat?!"

"No, in fact, I have not. Would you care to elaborate?" responded Munkustrap dryly. Mistoffelees whirled around to face Tumblebrutus, whose eyes were just as wide as the shocked mystic's. When Munkustrap asked for help in brainstorming ideas for the annual Jellicle Ball's theatrical performance, Mistoffelees and Tumblebrutus immediately jumped in to suggest one thing… an ode to the Great Rumpus Cat. Of course, they expected everyone to know about their favorite superhero already, considering the countless number of times they played Rumpus Cat and the Savage Serpent or Rumpus Cat and the Fearsome Feline of the Fell or Rumpus Cat Saves the Day and Gets the Queen or similar games of variable title lengths.

"Well…" Tumblebrutus started, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Some time later, after a debatably overzealous explanation – of course involving the appropriate amount of acrobatics and the occasional special effect, courtesy of the resident conjuring cat - about the Rumpus Cat's exploits, Munkustrap was about ready to collapse under the heaps of information the two young toms tossed at him.

"So let me get this straight," the confused cat stammered. "The Rumpus Cat possesses superior powers of intimidation and often emerges from his small basement flat when he senses some sort of disturbance on the streets of London."

"Right!" responded Mistoffelees, who eagerly explained, "His eyes are like fireballs fearfully blazing."

"He gives a great yawn, and his jaws are amazing!" added Tumblebrutus. Mistoffelees nodded vigorously and continued,

"And when he looks out through the bars of the area, you've never seen anything fiercer-"

"Or hairier!" piped in Etcetera, who snuck up on her friends and pounced on Tumblebrutus playfully.

"Nuh-uh!" Tumblebrutus denied, sticking out his tongue at her. "His fur is really short so that he can run super fast and jump really, really high!"

"So he's like me only without the gorgeous mane of perfectly groomed fur," concluded the Rum Tum Tugger, waltzing up to the group. "I must say, I think I like this idea, Munk. Old D will love it. Last year's skit was dreadfully boring."

Munkustrap thought it over, and eventually agreed. Tugger grinned enormously, imagining himself performing the lead as the Great Rumpus Cat. A thought occurred to him. "Say, Misto, do you think you could rig up a couple of magic tricks for the grand finale? I think that I'll – _ahem _– the Great Rumpus Cat will need huge sets of fireworks to celebrate my, uh, _his_ awesomeness." Mistoffelees grinned and eagerly agreed.

"Now, we'll need someone to play the Rumpus Cat. Tug, what do you think of Admetus? Yes, I think he will make an excellent lead," Munkustrap decided. Tugger's mouth dropped open.

"Munk, don't you think we need someone more—"

"Tumble, Etcetera, would you go find Admetus? I should speak with him right away."

Tugger scowled and stalked away, muttering something about real talent and bagpipes. Mistoffelees seemed to catch the second part and ran to catch up with the curious cat.

"Hey, Tug, you should go talk to Skimble. He might have what you're looking for…" Mistoffelees smirked. Though generally well behaved, Mistoffelees enjoyed the occasional prank, like most adolescent toms do.

"Hey, thanks, kid. Catch you later," called Tugger as he picked up the pace toward Skimble's den. Mistoffelees grinned and walked away, humming a merry tune under his breath. _This is going to be fun…_


	4. A New Perspective

A New Perspective

"What you up to, Misto?" asked the white female feline, padding up to her friend. Mistoffelees relaxed from his focused pose and glanced backward at the visitor.

"Trying to make the TSE-1 fly," he grinned. Victoria stared at him for a second, then began to laugh.

"No, really, what are you doing? You look like you're trying to make it rain, what with all the weird movements you're doing. A new dance, perhaps? Needs a little work…"

Mistoffelees pouted. "No, really, Vic, I'm trying to make it fly. And of course it looks weird. I'm trying to life a ton of scrap metal without actually touching it! But after I place the spell on it, she's ready to ride. Want to join me?" Victoria looked skeptical.

"Well, I for one don't completely believe that a cat of your… well… small stature… is capable of lifting an entire car."

"Aw, please, Vic? It would be no fun alone."

The alabaster cat hesitated. "Is it safe?"

Dramatically putting a paw to his chest and leaning back, Mistoffelees put a hurt look on his face. "Me? Unsafe? Why, Vic, I thought you trusted me. Come on, it's actually pretty simple magic. Please?"

Victoria considered for a moment. Finally, she sighed, "Just don't kill anyone, alright?" Mistoffelees punched the air in triumph, then returned to his previous chore of running along the interior of the car while flailing his arms, leaving behind a fine layer of magic in the form of sparkles. Victoria giggled at her friend's ridiculous antics as she stepped into the passenger seat of the rusty old car. Eventually, Mistoffelees stopped to inspect his handiwork, nodded in satisfaction, and leaped over to his position behind the wheel.

"Seatbelts on!" he directed. Victoria looked at the broken strap of fabric, then back to the deranged driver, silently asking, _And how exactly do you expect me to do this?_ Mistoffelees smirked and waved his paw in her direction. The seatbelt snaked out of its shelter, repaired itself in midair, and secured the young cat against the seat. Mistoffelees' did the same.

"Now," he said, closing his eyes and raising his arms to the steering wheel, "let us begin.

_Magic floating in the sky,_

_See the jalopy; make it fly!_"

Standing on his hind legs to see over the dusty dashboard, Mistoffelees was almost thrown backwards from the sudden jolt. Old pieces of metal reconnected to each other with screaming sounds, and a loud, rusty purr was emitted from under the dented hood, despite the lack of an engine. Several cats emerged from their dens to see where the commotion was coming from and began to yell when they saw the old TSE-1, stationary since before Old Deuteronomy moved the tribe to the junkyard, rise three feet above the ground and shoot backward.

Mistoffelees fought for control and eventually managed a gentle cruise – while flying faster than the Rumpus Cat could run. Victoria stared out the filthy windshield with huge, terrified eyes, claws gripping the seat on either side of her. She could only manage to say one thing through her gritted teeth:

"Was the rhyme really necessary?"

Mistoffelees grinned. "No, but it made things more exciting." Victoria did not agree.

After about thirty seconds of uneventful flying, there was a piercing popping sound, and the purr from under the hood sputtered out. All of a sudden, Victoria and Mistoffelees found themselves crashing.

"Agh! Look out!" the desperate driver called to the cats below him. They scattered in every direction in a panic. Mistoffelees directed the car to its previous spot, mostly depending on luck to park (crash) it where it used to be.

The seatbelts saved the two cats from flying through the windshield when the car smashed into the ground. Taking a moment to catch their breath, Mistoffelees and Victoria looked at each other, thinking the same thing: _We are in so much trouble!_

When they emerged from the car – thankfully returned to its former home – the two found themselves face-to-face with a murderous Jellicle Protector. Munkustrap opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Eventually, he managed to growl, "Come to my den, both of you, after you finish cleaning up this mess you've made."

The delinquents looked beyond the silver tabby to survey the damage. A couple mountains of rubbish had collapsed, creating an obstacle course in the clearing, but no one seemed to be hurt. As soon as Munkustrap stalked away, Victoria and Mistoffelees caught each other's eyes and burst into sidesplitting laughter.

This afternoon's exploits were in no way safe, smart, reasonable, or wise, but it begged the question:

"When can we do it again?!"


	5. Memory Miracle

Memory Miracle

Out of all the cats in the junkyard that Mistoffelees admired, one stood above the rest: Gus the Theatre Cat. Never before had the magical performer met anyone with such calm command of attention, and with immeasurable modesty, no less. Whenever Mistoffelees performed magic shows for the younger kittens of the tribe, he tried to channel the same presence and graciousness as the feline thespian, though he felt there was always something lacking. So he decided to speak to his role model and ask for advice, maybe even a lesson or two. (After all, this generation of kittens does not get trained as those in the days that Victoria reigned.)

"Say, Jelly!" Mistoffelees called. The calico queen flicked her ears in acknowledgement when Mistoffelees padded over to her, though she was preoccupied with cleaning the dusty coat of a restless kitten. She nodded at the kitten to signal his release, and he sped off in search of playmates.

"What can I do for you, Mistoffelees?" she asked.

"I was wondering where I might find your brother, Gus." Jellylorum looked surprised at the request. It was not often such a young cat sought out her old, nostalgic brother.

"He's usually at the theatre all day. You might think to check there," she responded.

"Thank you!" Mistoffelees replied graciously before turning away to embark for the theatre.

"Wait a moment, Mistoffelees," Jellylorum directed. The eager tom slowed is pace and looked over his shoulder. "If he's not by the door, he's usually backstage left. That's where the custodian keeps his bed." Mistoffelees grinned his thanks and sped off.

* * *

"Hello? Anybody here? Asparagus?" Mistoffelees called, his voice reverberating around the empty theatre's impressive acoustics. He had let himself in through the front door when he noticed the absence of the old cat. Recalling what Jellylorum had said about Gus' bed, Mistoffelees wandered toward the stage, soaking in the heat from the stage lights.

_Now is stage left facing the stage or facing the audience?_ Mistoffelees struggled to remember. A fragile voice from one of the wings interrupted his thoughts.

"H-hello? Who is it? What do you want?"

_Must be facing the audience, then!_ the mystic decided after following the voice off the stage. Eventually, he found the old cat sitting up stiffly in a fluffy cat bed, eyes wide and curious, still like a young kitten's.

"Asparagus," Mistoffelees greeted, "My name is Mistoffelees. I'm here to tell you how much I admire your work. I'm something of a performer, as well, and you truly give me something to work after, and—" Gus cut him off with a raised paw.

"Thank you for your kind words, and I do hope you will call me Gus instead, but I'm retired now. Too old to continue on the stage, they said. Too old…" He trailed off wistfully, eyes full of regret and longing. Mistoffelees fiddled with his paws.

"Well, I was hoping you might be able to give me some advice. I'm a bit of a performer, as well, though not the same kind you've done. But you capture a crowd so entirely that I was wondering if you might give me some lessons.

"I would greatly appreciate it," he added after noting the elder's hesitation.

"Very well," Gus croaked. "Why don't we start here? I began with reading various parts cold to practice…" he trailed off.

After an awkward moment of Mistoffelees awkwardly watching his mentor stare into space, he prompted, "To practice…?"

Gus seemed to partially shake himself out of his daydream, responding, "Why, characterization, of course." Mistoffelees' tail twitched to signal his understanding and urged the feline to continue.

"I believe I have a couple of old scripts in a box around here somewhere…" The cat rose to his feet, shaking on his paws, and meandered stiffly over to a broken trunk in the corner. Mistoffelees opened it for him and had to resist the urge to sneeze from the sizable accumulation of dust that flew up from the ancient pages.

"Well now, let's see…" Gus muttered, rummaging about. Suddenly, he froze, then slowly pulled a well-used, well-loved booklet with the title _Escaping the Fiend of the Fell._ Tears began welling up in Gus' eyes as he reminisced about his greatest moments on the stage. Mistoffelees noticed the pained look of longing for a time long past when an idea struck.

"Gus," he started gently, "I am a mystic, you know, like Coricopat and Tantomile, and I have a trick I've been meaning to try. Could you help me with that?" The Theatre Cat turned to look at the young tom before shrugging his consent. Mistoffelees smiled warmly at him.

"I need you to close your eyes," he instructed. Gus obeyed without hesitation. "Now, imagine your greatest moment on this stage, your best show. Remember everything: the lights, the people, the applause. Are you picturing it?" The smile on Gus' face confirmed his positive response. "Perfect," Mistoffelees whispered, "Keep it in your mind for a minute while I try this."

The tuxedo tom held his paw out flat and blew off any excess of magic, sprinkling the light-catching glitter on his companion's shabby coat. Gently placing a paw on either side of Gus' head, he closed his eyes and concentrated until he could hear and feel everything that Gus was imagining. Opening his eyes, he found himself sitting in the best seats in the house during the final performance of _Escaping the Fiend of the Fell_ while sitting next to the aged version of the great Firefrorefiddle himself. He shook Gus' shoulder to invite him into this new reality.

When Gus cracked open his eyelids, his eyes immediately flooded with memories and tears. His paws started shaking harder than usual and his body began rumbling with a rusty purr. The great actor turned to the great magician and asked,

"Are we really here right now? Truly? I've only been able to reach this time in my memories…"

Mistoffelees smiled and responded, "We are watching your memory right now. I'm only using my magic to project it around us."

Gus gave a teary sniff and said, "You are a phenomenal cat." Mistoffelees turned to watch the stage, a pleasing red hue creeping on to his face.

Young Asparagus was nothing less than incredible. He managed to act with his back and his tail, clearly a Star of the highest degree, completely in his element. The show ended to thunderous applause that lasted for three curtain calls. Mistoffelees swore that before the cast disappeared behind the fabric the final time, Firefrorefiddle's laser-red eyes caught his own.

After turning back to Gus to congratulate him on such a fantastic show, the crowded theatre vanished, replaced with the empty stage. Gus and Mistoffelees found themselves again in the present.

Still crying, Gus exclaimed, "Thank you, my boy, thank you! You have given an old cat for a few minutes the only thing he could want: his youth." Mistoffelees smiled warmly and shook the other cat's palsy-suffered paw.

"Truly, it was my pleasure. So what would you say about those lessons?"

The old cat laughed. "My boy, you don't need them. I've heard my sister rave about you and the shows you put on for the kittens. Apparently, you're a big hit. All you need is some experience, so go out there and do something!" Mistoffelees' smile grew as he thanked his mentor profusely for the advice. Gus gave him another rusty purr in return, and Mistoffelees bid his elderly friend goodbye.

With his apprehensions and performance-anxiety behind him, Mistoffelees bounded back to the junkyard, filled with a renewed vigor to practice and perform. With the support from his theatrical idol and now good friend, he carried a new air of confidence that all the Jellicles were sure to notice. After all, what else could be expected of such a Phenomenal Cat?


	6. Sold Out

Sold Out

Bustopher Jones ran his tongue along his teeth, searching for any stray morsel of his meal. Tonight's menu had been superb: steamy, creamy clam chowder, a bowl of finely ripened, sugar encrusted strawberries, and a large serving of hot duck confit with an aged raspberry sauce. All Bustopher had left to enjoy was the greatest part of the meal: the dessert, specifically cheesecake crème brûlée, Bustopher's absolute favorite. And he told the waiter so.

"I am so sorry, Mr. Jones, but we just sent out last one to another table. Could I interest you in the lemon sorbet instead?"

Bustopher could only gape at the man. They were sold out?! What's more, they put another customer's needs before his own? What kind of restaurant was this? Every eatery in London appreciated Bustopher's well-respected patronage properly – by always, always feeding him what he asks for, when he asks for it. Denying a Jones his dessert of choice? Preposterous! Horrendous! Unacceptable!

"And, pray tell, to whom did you give your last cheesecake dessert?" mewed Bustopher petulantly. The waiter seemed confused.

"Why, to that young couple by the windows."

"I must have a word with them," Bustopher mumbled as he slipped off his chair, grumbling about unsatisfactory service.

* * *

"Misto, this dinner was simply wonderful," purred the tuxedo tom's date.

Mistoffelees smiled and replied, "And isn't it fortunate that we snagged the last dessert? I love this stuff." He was about to crack into the caramelized topping of the crème brûlée, but retracted his spoon after a thought. "Why don't you have the first go, Vic? It was your choice of dessert, after all."

Victoria smiled graciously and began approaching the delicacy with her spoon. Suddenly, a loud _harrumph_ came from above the seated cats, and they looked up to see a silently fuming, stiffly dressed cat.

"I understand that is the final plate of the cheesecake crème brûlée?" he muttered darkly.

"I think so," Victoria responded, unsure of where this conversation was heading.

"Well, I would like you to know that I have been a patron of this," he choked on the word, "fine establishment for several years now. And they decided that I am to have the last crème brûlée. So sorry for any confusion."

Mistoffelees didn't believe a word of it. He waved his tail to flag down a waiter and asked for clarification. "We have put the dessert on your bill, Mr. Mistoffelees. What you wish to do with it is up to you and your lovely date." Victoria blushed slightly.

"Well, Victoria and I intend to eat this dessert," Mistoffelees responded, putting an arm around the blushing white cat and turning to Bustopher, staring into his eyes as if to say, _Your move._

A very unbecoming scowl graced the St. James' street cat's face. "Now look here, you ungrateful, unworthy excuse for a cat." He spit slightly as the words left his lips, leaning toward Mistoffelees. "I want that dessert. Now give it to me or else I'll… I'll…" He looked frantically around the room as if he could find something to threaten Mistoffelees with. Finally, he just turned back to the mystic cat – who was trying desperately to hold back his laughter – saying, "I'll do this!"

Bustopher grabbed the dish off the table and bounded away with it – well, however much a twenty-five-pounder can "bound." Victoria and Mistoffelees watched Bustopher's well-rounded rump as he raced down the street. Then, Victoria turned to Mistoffelees and asked, "What just happened?" Mistoffelees couldn't answer as a massive wave of laughter inundated any words he could possibly have formulated. Soon enough, Victoria found herself giggling with him, and eventually ended up laughing just as hard as her date.

"Well, that certainly was an eventful dinner," chuckled Mistoffelees, wiping a stray tear from his eye. He signaled for the bill and paid for both the dinner and the stolen dessert.

"We ought to do it again sometime, Mister Mistoffelees," Victoria said with a smirk, taking the arm he offered her.

"It would be my pleasure, love," he replied. The two exited the restaurant arm-in-arm, still smiling about the story that they couldn't wait to tell the rest of the Jellicles. Oddly enough, they never had a craving for cheesecake crème brûlée again.

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**Wow, a close one tonight. I have really, really enjoyed this challenge. It's been a looooooong time since I've written anything for this site, and then BAM: six new stories. And one more to go. GERONIMOOOOOOOOO!**


	7. The Best Day

The Best Day

"Daddy, what was the best day you ever had?" mewed the young tuxedo-kit, a nearly exact replica of her father. Mistoffelees pondered her question while stroking her head fur. Outside the den, rain pounded the ground, turning the clearing into muddy mush, effectively destroying the usual play place of the kittens of the tribe. As a result, every kitten ended up in their homes, seeking shelter with their families.

"That's a difficult question. I have a lot of days to consider," Mistoffelees replied softly.

"Tell me about one of them! Please, Daddy?" The mystic chuckled and obliged.

"Well, I was about your age, maybe a little older, when I put on my first magic show. All of my friends gathered to watch: Tumble, Pounce, Etcetera… even Uncle Tugger showed up."

"Was Mommy there?"

"But of course! She was in the front row." Mistoffelees swept his tail around the kitten, cradling her closer to his side. "It was an incredibly hot day. Even Uncle Munk was complaining about the heat." The kitten's eyes rounded in disbelief (the idea of the stoic, ever reasonable Protector complaining about anything other than the Rum Tum Tugger was completely absurd), but she didn't interrupt. "For my first trick, I produced a bouquet of flowers for the most beautiful queen in the audience, just like this."

Mistoffelees flicked a paw, and a bunch of daisies appeared in his daughter's arms. She giggled and inhaled their scent deeply. "So you gave them to Mommy then?"

"That I did," he replied with a smile. "I did a couple of other tricks, like picking the queen of hearts from a pack, predicting dice rolls, things that your brother is trying to learn." Mistoffelees glanced at the black-and-white striped tom-kit sleeping by the door. Although no signs of real magic have emerged in his son yet, he loved to watch his father preform tricks, loudly proclaiming how he will be exactly like his dad when he grows up.

"But pretty soon," Mistoffelees continued, looking back to his daughter, "everyone in the audience got tired of the heat and started getting restless. So I tried a new trick." He hesitated. "Before I keep going, I need you to promise me something."

"What is it?" the young she-kit mewed, deadly serious. Mistoffelees glanced about the room surreptitiously before leaning in and whispering,

"You can't tell Uncle Tugger that I told you about this. Deal?"

"Deal!" she replied, vigorously nodding her head.

"Okay, I'm trusting you with this, then. Well, Uncle Tugger kept pulling at his mane because it was making him so hot, like a winter coat. So I called him up to the stage.."

"_Ladies and gentlemen, for my next trick, I shall request an assistant from the audience. Tugger, if you would be so kind as to join me on the stage."_

_The overheated Maine Coon reluctantly trudged up to the front of the audience and sat down next to the young Mistoffelees. _

"_Now, ladies and gentlemen, does the Rum Tum Tugger seem hot to you?" _

_Etcetera squealed. "Always!"_

_Mistoffelees hit his forehead with his paw. "Let me rephrase that. Does the Rum Tum Tugger seem overheated?" The audience nodded in response. "Good. For my next trick, ladies and gentlemen, I will make Tugger cool down faster than any electric fan could manage." Tugger skeptically raised an eyebrow._

"_Presto!"_

_A small raincloud gathered above Tugger and began drenching the cat in ice-cold rain. His fur was plastered to his sides, making the usually lean cat appear frail and gaunt. _

"_Hey, kid, make that stop! Dry me off! This isn't funny."_

_Mistoffelees squeaked at his mistake. The spell book didn't mention anything about rain… _

"_Sorry, Tugger! Umm… The real problem is your thick fur, right? I-I-I can fix that. You'll be less warm!"_

_Tugger saw what was coming and began frantically waving his paws, trying to get Mistoffelees to stop his trick, crying, "No! Wait! Don't do that!"_

_Alas, his cries were in vain. Mistoffelees clapped, and a silver wind shot from where is paws collided and flew toward Tugger, running down half his face and one flank. The audience began laughing hysterically as they watched a half-shaven, thoroughly drenched Rum Tum Tugger sprint away from the crowd, crying and running into his den._

_Mistoffelees looked absolutely lost, completely unsure of what to do next. He heard the crowd ripping into laughter, and decided to turn and bow, ending the show. _

Mistoffelees' daughter began laughing hard, reminiscent of the crowd's amusement that day in his kittenhood.

"He still holds a grudge for that," mentioned an alabaster feline, curling up next to her kitten and mate to join the conversation. Mistoffelees purred at Victoria's comment.

"Nah, I was too cute to hold a grudge against. Heaviside knows his ego grew back with his fur, so it's not too big of a deal," he replied. He swiveled his ears toward the door. "Listen," he whispered, "the rain stopped. What do you say you and your brother go run about a bit outside to stretch your legs?" The kitten nodded in agreement and leaped forward to wake her sleeping brother. Not long after the two exited the den did the kitten shriek across the clearing, "Uncle Tugger! Guess what story Daddy just told me!"

Mistoffelees snorted in disbelief. "I made her promise to not tell him about that," he told Victoria. The irritation in his words was cancelled by the smile on his face.

"She takes after me in that," she purred, grabbing her mate's hand and pulling him out the door. "Come on, Misto! I want to see his face when he hears this story again!" Mistoffelees grinned and followed her out the den. He would never let Tugger live this down.

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**I'm going to be honest here... I'm not very pleased with how this turned out. All my other ideas turned into half-baked stories that lacked continuity. But it's the last prompt and it's one in the morning, so I'm gonna post this and go to bed. Thanks for a lot of fun and a good challenge, BroadwayKhaos! Happy judging :)**


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